


Fictober 2019

by storyknitter



Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Cross-Posted on Tumblr, F/M, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2019-10-07
Packaged: 2020-11-09 07:29:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20849753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storyknitter/pseuds/storyknitter
Summary: A short, bittersweet snippet from Theron & Sanna's honeymoon on Manaan





	1. Day 2: “Just follow me, I know the area.”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short, bittersweet snippet from Theron & Sanna's honeymoon on Manaan

_Ahto City, Manaan, 24 ATC_

Theron’s arm rested heavy across Sanna’s shoulders as they strolled from the observation pier, her fingers twined through his, their new rings clicking as they met. The speeder boat races had not only been a pleasant break from lazing by the pool, but she’d learned something about her husband – he used to race swoop bikes.

“That’s so dangerous, Theron.”

He chuckled. “Are you still stuck on the swoop racing bit?”

“Yes!” she said, glancing up at him. “You could have been hurt or worse. What if –” A loud growl from her stomach cut off her impassioned speech and heat rushed to her cheeks as Theron practically doubled over laughing. Crossing her arms, she frowned at him disapprovingly.

After he was able to breathe without cackling, he reached for her hands, kissing her burning cheeks, then her jaw, then her ear... oh, stars, he’d be her undoing one of these days. “C’mon,” he said, pulling her by the hand. “Let get some lunch.”

Theron pulled her along as he wove through crowds of people and down three different alleys.

“Where are we going, _mirea_*?”

“Don’t you worry about it, love. Just follow me, I know this area like the back of my hand,” he said, winking at her. A few blocks later, they approached a small storefront in a corner with the most incredible smell wafting from the open door and her stomach rumbled again in anticipation.

“How did you even know this was here? It’s all but hidden.”

Theron shrugged and glanced back over his shoulder. “It was one of my favorite places to hang out when I was younger – they have some of the best dumplings I’ve ever eaten.”

Her heart thudded to a stop along with her legs: for all that she enjoyed Manaan (with the singular exception of nearly drowning thanks to Darok and Arkous), she’d forgotten that Theron had lived here as a teenager. _Alone_. How could she have forgotten? Oh stars, he’d raced swoop bikes _here_. Not Coruscant or while undercover. _Here_.

Concern flickered across his features. “San? What’s wrong?”

“I forgot.” It came out as a whisper and Sanna blinked away the fuzziness in her vision, ignoring the image of her husband as an abandoned Padawan that her mind seemed determined to conjure. She wouldn’t let herself look away as Theron followed her train of thought, his eyes shifting from confusion to gentle understanding as he cradled her cheeks in his hands.

“Hey, it’s okay, sweetheart,” he said with a tender smile. “I don’t know how you’re imagining it, but living here wasn’t terrible. Like anything, there were good times and not so good times.” He paused and she wondered what the ratio of good to bad had been. “I’ll tell you that was a hell of a lot more fun than training to be a Jedi – for me, at least.” He ran his thumbs along her jaw and pressed warm lips to her forehead. “Now, c’mon. Unless they’ve changed the recipe since the last time I was here, you’re in for a treat.”

—

*_mirea_ is a shortened version of _mireashe_, or spouse. It’s pronounced MIH-ruh, with a flipped r


	2. Day 3: “Now? Now you listen to me?”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theron's daredevil past comes back to haunt him

****Theron stood at the foot of the tall tree, hands fisted on his hips and disapproval twisting his features as he stared up at the five-year-old clinging to a branch. “How’s the weather up there?” he asked wryly.

“Daddy!” Amareesa cried from halfway up. “I, um... I think I’m stuck. Can you help me?” Panic made her little voice wobbly and scratches on her arms and legs were visible from the ground.

Sanna was certainly going to have a good laugh about his past coming back to haunt him after their daughter’s most recent stunt. Heaving a sigh, Theron studied the tree and the routes provided by the branches. After a moment, he began to instruct Reesie in the best way to climb back down.

“Okay. See that big branch that splits into two on your left? You’ll want to grab that one and –”

“But Daddy, you and Mama said not to climb up the tree! I shouldn’t go any _higher_!”

Now? _Now_ she listened to him? Taking a deep breath and brushing aside the irritation, he explained that sometimes the safest way to get somewhere was to start in the opposite direction.

Twenty minutes of talking her through hand- and foot-holds (not to mention climbing a quarter of the way up the tree himself), Theron and Reesie were back on the ground. Aside from some scratches, a few bruises, and a renewed twinge in his left shoulder, they were none the worse for wear.

“You know that Mama and I tell you things for a reason, right?” he asked, ruffling her hair as they walked back up the hill to the house, a stray leaf falling out of her ponytail. “Usually, it’s because we’ve learned already, sometimes the hard way.”

The little girl nodded seriously, though mischief twinkled in her grey eyes. “Does that mean that I should practice so I don’t learn the hard way?”

“Reesie,” he said, warning clear in his voice, but she grabbed his hand and grinned up at him.

“But Daddy, I need to learn how to do things the safe way. And it would be safe if you climbed that big tree on the other side of the base with me! Puh-leeeeease?”

“We’ll see.”

“So yes?”

Dammit all to hells, Theron found it incredibly difficult to refuse Reesie anything – just another way she was like her mother.

“We’ll see.”

Amareesa skipped the rest of the way home, a grin on her face.


	3. Days 4 & 5: “I know you didn’t ask for this.”/“I might just kiss you.”

_Odessen, 23 ATC, shortly after the Battle of Odessen (chapter 16, Knights of the Fallen Empire)_

Theron strolled across the grass and around the Defender, unsurprised to see his girlfriend hidden behind the ship, curled up in the grass with knees tucked to her chest and back against the rocky outcropping. He’d given her half an hour alone before heading to her usual hiding spot – not that he’d call it a hiding spot in front of her. It was a “place of meditation.”

“Hey,” he said gently. “Mind if I join you?”

Vassanna offered up a half-hearted smile and patted the ground beside her. A heavy silence filled the space around them. It was at times like this that he was most appreciative of Master Zho’s training in patience: he knew she wanted to talk about Senya and Arcann, but it took his Jedi some time to find the words she wanted. Theron just had to be patient, as difficult as it could be.

“I don’t know that I made the right call with Senya,” Sanna said at long last, her voice soft and wavering. “I trusted her.”

“Do you still?” Theron knew that _ he _ didn’t trust her as far as he could throw her and he _ certainly _didn’t trust Arcann, but Sanna... well, she seemed to give out unlimited chances.

“I don’t know.” She paused, glancing up at the stars. “If I thought the people I was working with would be fine without me and I had the chance to save someone I loved?” She sighed and shook her head. “I said I did, but... I don’t know.”

Theron nudged her shoulder with his, waiting to speak until Sanna met his gaze. “I’m sorry. I know you never asked for any of this – leading the Alliance, going up against the Eternal Empire, everything else that’s gone along with it – and I’m sorry that Lana and I forced you into leadership. No,” he insisted as she shook her head in dismissal, “it’s not okay.”

He stretched and subtly draped his arm around her shoulders. “If it makes you feel any better, _ I _ voted for taking you on a vacation to a sunny beach that had fruity drinks with little umbrellas. But _ no_, Lana and Koth were all, ‘Blah blah build an alliance, blah blah stop the bad guy.’ That’s so overrated if you ask me.” 

She giggled – an honest to gods _ giggle_. “A vacation sounds great, my sweet. Make it happen and I just might kiss you for that.”

“I think you should kiss me regardless,” Theron said, smirking.

Instead, her features crumpled before she rocked toward him, burying her face in the crook of his neck. “He’s back,” she whispered, fingers grasping at him as though desperate for an anchor. “Vitiate, I mean. I don’t think he ever really left.” Sanna’s shoulders shook with silent sobs as a wave of rage crashed into him, washing away all his teasing and making it hard to breathe. 

He swore softly and pulled her closer, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “It’ll be okay,” he murmured. “I’m still here, too, and I am not leaving. I’ve got you, babe. It’ll be okay, I promise.”


	4. Day 7: “No, and that’s final.”

_ The Gravestone, en route to Zakuul. 23 ATC _

“Absolutely not.”

Theron had never seen Vassanna this upset, this  _ angry  _ – especially at him – but he refused to back down. This was far too important.

“You need backup you can trust down there. Not Vitiate’s kid and his ex.”

“They are more than that, and you know it. That’s not fair to them.”

“Well, it certainly doesn’t make me feel comfortable that you’re trying to take the throne with only the two of them at your back.”

“You. Will. Stay.  _ Here _ ,” she bit out through clenched teeth, pointing at the metal floor of the ship.

“If that’s an order, then you should just toss me in the brig right now,” he said, eyebrow raised and arms folding across his chest. “Because – let me tell you – I have absolutely zero intention of following it. Don’t tell me there’s only room for three people in an escape pod, Vassanna – that would be titanically shitty design.”

“I said no, and that’s final. End of discussion.”

“Then I’ll see you in the escape pod,” he said, pivoting to storm out of the room. “Unless you’d like to escort me to the brig yourself.”

Sanna reached out and grasped at his wrist, spinning him back, raising her other hand to his face. Theron stomped out the instinct to flinch, and her palm came to rest gently on his cheek. She closed her eyes and he felt a tug in his stomach as the world went dark, all the air sucked from his lungs.

_ Theron strolled casually down the walkway, meters away from his goal – the Eternal Throne. Glancing to his sides, he noted bodies of people and Skytroopers alike slumped among the burning wreckage littering the Throne Room. Someone needed to tidy up the place, he thought with distaste. He passed Arcann – disappointment that he was – and Senya, crumpled back to back, empty eyes staring at nothing. How quaint. Koth was next, broken and mangled, followed by Vette, Eli'anara, Lana. _

_ His breath caught in his throat as he stopped at the end of the aisle: lying sprawled on the steps, pale and bleeding –  _ ** _dying _ ** _ – was... him.  _

_ “Sanna?” Other-Theron gasped out. “Help me. Sweetheart, please. I need your help.” _

_ Theron stepped over himself, coldly ignoring the fading pleas for help, and settled into the Eternal Throne. Crossing his legs, he leaned back and activated a button on the arm console. _

_ “People of Zakuul,” Sanna's voice came from his lips, aloof and regal. “I greet you now as your new Empress. In place of the wicked rulers of recent years, you will have a kind and generous queen, beautiful and terrible as the dawn." _

The vision blurred, then snapped back to the Gravestone, leaving him reeling. “How long has he been showing you that?” Theron snarled, barely-checked rage at Vitiate’s manipulations bleeding into his voice.

“Since we snuck into Vaylin’s party. Theron, I–” A choked gasp cut off Sanna’s whispered plea. “I cannot risk... I  will not....”

Stars, she was barely keeping herself together, tears streaking down her cheeks and her chin quivering. If the stakes weren't so high, he would agree to whatever she wanted, but no. Vassanna c ouldn't risk his life – but he wouldn't risk hers either.

“What, you think you matter less to me than I do to you? You died and–” Theron stopped, digging his fists into his hips. He slumped as his anger drained away, leaving fear and despair in its place. “You  _ died _ ,” he whispered, "and I mourned you. For two years I mourned you. And I can't risk you,” he said, soft, gentle. “I am not just gonna sit back and watch this time. I–”

_ You love her, you idiot. Just tell her you love her and you can't bear losing her again _ , screamed a voice in the back of his mind, but Theron couldn’t make the words leave his mouth. Instead, he rested his forehead on hers, willing her to understand, and ran his palms along her upper arms. 

A shrill beep from Sanna’s comm broke the soft silence that had fallen between them. She jerked out of his grasp, wiping the tears from her face with a sniffle as she turned away and answered the insistent device – audio-only, of course.

Dammit all to hells, Lana had the worst fucking timing. He bit back a sigh and ran a hand over the back of his neck.

“I’m needed on the bridge,” Sanna whispered as she brushed past him. Theron opened his mouth to protest, but she was already out the door. 

* * *

A warm hand on her elbow paused Vassanna’s purposeful strides to the pod that would take her to Zakuul’s surface and the Throne Room. She steeled herself for the impending conversation, begging the Force to keep it from turning into an argument again as she met Theron’s gaze.

“Look, whatever happens down there, I...” He trailed off with a sigh -- one of frustration or sorrow, she couldn’t tell. “I just wanted to say I love you.”

Oh stars, she couldn’t breathe. “I love you too, Theron.” Somehow, the words slipped from her lips as though she hadn’t been fighting to say them for weeks. Who moved first, she would never know, but their lips met in a tender, lingering kiss.

“You’re gonna look great sitting on that throne.” He smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes, and kept his arms around her.

“Theron, it’s not that I don’t want you there with me, that I think they’re better fighters or –”

“Don’t.” He shook his head, lips pursed. When he spoke again, it was barely above a whisper. “If this goes sideways, I don’t want to spend the rest of my life wondering ‘what if,’ what would have happened had I not stayed behind again.”

Oh. Oh, no. Did he truly blame himself for Wild Space all those years ago? The thought hurt her heart and Sanna cradled his cheeks, scratchy with stubble, in her hands.

“Theron Shan, you are not responsible for my decisions all those years ago.”

His eyes slid closed and he nodded weakly. “I know.”

She studied his features, memorizing them, and put herself in his boots – she’d want to accompany him if their roles were reversed. Would he sideline her?

“There’s no one in the Alliance I trust more than you,” Sanna whispered. “No one. And no one else I’d rather have at my side.” Pushing aside the fears that Vitiate had planted and cultivated, she swallowed hard. “Promise me that you will be careful, Theron Shan, and I will believe you.”

His gaze snapped to hers. “Wait. Does that mean I’m on the ground team?”

“Only if you promise me that you’ll be careful. No unnecessary risks.”

“I’ll be careful, I swear it.” Theron sealed their agreement with a kiss – more fervent than the previous one – and they followed the rest of the strike team, hand in hand.


End file.
